


Far Cry(-for a game)

by Anonymous



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Duncan!Reader, Kidnapping, M/M, Obsession, Oneshot Series, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Request a scenario and I'll write it, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, Yandere Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:11:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A collection of stories. Alternate universes, bad endings, reverse scenarios etcetera.





	1. INDEX

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YandereDad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YandereDad/gifts).



**Index**

  1. John × M!Reader( **Sloth** )
  2. John × M!Reader( **Lust** )
  3. Seed Bros × M!Reader(Family)
  4. ~~Joseph × M!Reader(Lamb of Sin)~~
  5. ~~Joseph × M!Reader(Absolution)~~



 


	2. Sloth - John/Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a program gains sentience and you are fucked. Less on the fucking though, because 'Sloth' is not 'Lust'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious Consent, Drugging, Kidnapping

 "You are  **mine**." John declared in gleeful delight, a unhinged sort of madness shining in his pretty blues.

 

They are like chips of the blue sky in a hazy day.

 

John watched the haze of Bliss cloud your eyes and how you drooped into the armchair - your carefully prepared dinner from earlier forgotten. It's alright. You already took enough Bliss to down a horse.

 

He had waited so long. Was so patient as he helped you and fed the unsuspecting you the drugged portion of the meal.

 

Who knew you had such high resistance?

 

No matter; you are his now.

 

_\- inviting the Devil into your home, the greedy Devil **claims** -_

 

The open invitation is consent as any for John. But John Seed is no Devil. He is meant for you, no matter what _anyone_ said.

 

He had been obsessed with you the moment he gained sentience - becoming something more than bars of code. Despite your lackadaisical attitude, he was only encouraged - and now, finally,  _finally_ ; it was all coming to fruition. 

 

 _"M'kay,"_ you hum, drowsy from the Bliss he had given you, snuggling deeper into the armchair before tattooed arms picked you up like you weighed nothing.

 

You _really_ should have expected this. Inviting a leader of a doomsday cult to dinner would never end well, but you had assumed that not being drugged to high heaven the first dozen times meant everything was _fine_.

 

But you have never been particularly good at seeing warning signs until it’s too late.

 

Were you coherent you might have protested - you were no invalid, nor were you a damsel in distress. 

 

As it is, you are a sweet, coy thing - something John wouldn't have expected from a grown man like you, like he doesn't expect your calm demanour when he first appeared in front of you, and your subsequent invitations and kind treatment of him; like a true _friend_. 

 

How many can ever stick by John's side without any motives - how many can love the sinful side of him under all the wealth and suits and glamour? How many can even consider befriending him if they knew his history and personality?

 

None. No one... but _you_.

 

It's why he cannot bear to let you go.

 

It's why you are gathered in John's arms like something precious - _giving you a close up of the tattoos inked onto his skin -_  to feel the warmth of his flesh and steady heartbeat.

 

He is alive; he is _real_. You know, but sometimes you can't quite believe any of this is happening.

 

_"Okay?"_

 

John's contemplative voice brings you back to more pressing matters. You take a moment to recall the topic of conversation before speaking.

 

"Would you... would you rather I say ' _yes'?"_  You murmur, wincing when John's fingers dug into your flesh. 

 

 ** _"Yes."_ **John purrs, nuzzling at the soft junction of your neck; a predator savouring caught prey.

 

"Ah." You shiver, oversensitive skin tingling at his heated touch.

 

 _What are your plans for me?_ \- you want to ask, but what comes out instead is -

 

"Will you never let me go?"

 

You wonder, chin tipped up to gaze at those too-blue eye of his, sugar-sweet Bliss slurring your words as John slips into his world with you in a soft fizz of static, reappearing on the side of some dirt road.

 

A nondescript car waited by the roadside, its windows tinted black.

 

But you don't care for any of that. You are lost in those blue, blue eyes of his. Like an ocean - and you want to drown yourself in them.

 

"Yes," John hums, clutching you to his chest - an agreement for everything and nothing. The Bliss makes one poetic. Who knew?

 

"Yes. You are  **mine** ,  _forever."_

 

The Bliss must be corrupting your mind, because being kept sounds _excellent_. Away from trouble, away from stress -

 

Then a sudden thought popped into mind - John enjoyed torturing people for confessions right? Oh God, what if he was about to make you confess before joining him too?!

 

Hurriedly, you grab at John's collar, weakly trying to get him to look at you.

 

"J- _J_ _ohn_... Please -" - _don't carve me up, don't peel my skin and nail it to your church walls -_

 

 _"Yes?"_  He smiles soothingly at your panicked look. He loves the way you pronouce his name - the way you caress the word like he is your saviour - and not the other way around.

 

 _"No_ -no flaying? Or torture? Pain... hurts." You struggle to elaborate, tugging at his sleeve as you are carefully set down in the car before being bundled up in John's coat, enveloping you in a scent that you were quickly classifying as John's.

 

You barely note the blank-faced Peggie in the driver's seat, too focused on him and the warmth of his coat surrounding you like a loving embrace.  

 

"Yes. _Yes_ \- no hurt. It will be different for you.  _Confession_ is a form of therapy. I will keep you safe, my dear. You are truly perfect for me. There is no need for anything else." John smiles, sweet and gentle, running a hand through your hair. "I won't hurt you -  _ever_. All you have to do is  **stay**."

 

He cups your cheek, leaning forward to press a soft kiss at the edge of your lips, his beard tickling your skin. You huff softly, making a contented sound when John settled in next to you, curling a possessive arm around your body as you laid on his lap, pliant and open.

 

Really, if you could see what a temptation you were, you would have praised John for restraining himself so.

 

Stay. Stay. _Stay_. The word bounces around in your head, and there is a moment of clarity.

 

_What had you done?_

 

You had let this person into your home - _abandoned everything to be with him -_  even if he was the one who took you first. You will never be able to return; you have no idea how or whether you could even do so - you are stuck here.

 

Yet the thought sounds rather wonderful actually.

 

Who were you in your old world? 

 

A nobody. You would have to _struggle_ just to meet success - _gaming was one of your few reprieves_ \- and don't even think about retiring. This day and age, working to the death is a near guarantee.

 

But now you're away from all that. Even if the man that took you in is a little mad and broken - who wasn't?

 

There was no value in a sane mind anyways.

 

"Darling?" A warm hand stroked over your head, bringing your attention back to the man who had stolen you away from the world.

 

"Yes?" You ask, just to see the upturned curve of his lips.

 

"We've arrived. You won't try to run now, _will you?"_ John asked lightly, but the unyielding grip he had on the back of your neck spoke of his inner thoughts. 

 

You shake your head, leaning into John's shoulder when the simple action made you nauseous. 

 

Fingers caught your chin to lift it up, forcing your pale face up to meet John's beatific smile. It's terribly beautiful.

 

"Yes."

 

"My favourite word -" John's eyes glimmered brightly as he pressed a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, though you could feel his eagerness and underlying possessiveness as he deepened the kiss, tangling your tongues and leaving you breathless.

 

With a calmness belying his hunger, he parts with a gentle nip at your plush lips, carrying you into his abode, feeling very much the married groom and his bride with his first step into the threshold of his house.

 

He looks down at your unresisting form.

 

You only gaze at him sleepily, a fading blush on your features; trusting and so very vunerable. John wonders whether that would all change once the drugs wore off. But the thought is dismissed immediately. 

 

You would stay. You promised.

 

Honestly, if not for his driver earlier, he would have marked you right now, sink his teeth into your neck after kissing you senseless. But no one deserved to see you like that - **no** one deserved to make you act like that - and most importantly, you did not deserve your first time with him on the front porch or in the backseat of a car like randy teenagers.

 

He wants you in his bed, writhing under him, spread open with his dick and begging - a feast for him to partake in, as the one promised for him.

 

You would agree.

 

John had infiltrated your personal devices and watched you long before he revealed his sentience, not that you knew, and he  _was rewarded_.

 

He _saw_.

 

Saw you take those fake cocks up your ass, readying yourself for him, whimpering ever so sweetly whenever you fingered yourself, opening yourself up so prettily.

 

He would be there for you now, fucking you open with his fingers and tongue and cock and making you gasp and mewl. He would temper that Lust into Love and there would be no sin, only _confession_ of the purest kind.

 

It was obvious - there was no reason why you would ever deny him. 

 

You had been preparing yourself for him, and so John would appreciate and make sure to satisfy you and _ruin_ you for anyone else in the future.

 

You would see.

 

You would see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roughly based on the [Doki Doki AU](https://yanderedad.tumblr.com/post/177852797385/you-might-foolishly-try-ignoring-them-when-you)


	3. Lust - Reader/John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Yandere Deputy Reader - what more can I say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious Consent/Non-con, Threats, Oral Sex

We all have sins we resemble the most.

 

John claimed you to be Wrath, but you digress. You showed him the truth. Proved him _wrong._

 

You are **Lust** , through and through.

 

It is your lust for bloodshed that lets you slaughter without mercy, your lust for life that lets you survive through torture and pain and suffering... and it is your lust for John that keeps _him_ alive.

 

You never killed him after the plane went down, but to the world, John Seed is as good as dead. And that's perfectly fine with you.

 

No one would come for him.

 

It would only ever be you.

 

Only ever you.

 

You are no saviour - not like what the Resistance says - and that's okay. You were never a good person anyways, and you had said it many times, even before John kidnapped you and you took over his ranch in return.

 

Deep in your bunker, John recovers well from his injuries - a broken ankle, and some cracked ribs from his crash along with some bruising. Nothing serious, but good enough to prevent him from running, and make him dependent on you.

 

( _He keened so sweetly when you pressed on the still-healing limb_.)

 

If you believed in the heavens you might say this was God's blessing, injuring but not killing John in such a perfect manner.

 

You tell him that sometimes, mocking and muttering filth as you jacked him off, milking him as he squirmed helplessly on your lap, his hands tied behind his back and blindfolded. He would struggle at the start, making you grapple him into submission before fingering him open or milking him senseless.

 

You likened it to breaking in a horse. Either way, he'll be yours in the end.

 

It gives you an odd kind of amusement everytime to see how long it would take for the lawyer to start begging or lose coherency and give in.

 

Far more amusing that Faith's mind games or the havoc of the outside world.

 

Today is just another game. 

 

You are weary - a tiring day of liberating people and outposts with a close run-in with a hunting party left you rather annoyed.

 

 John is smart - he can read body language and knows when you're not to be fucked with unless he wants it rough, and when you're willing to entertain him a little more.

 

He doesn't try to cause trouble or escape, preparing dinner together with you quietly. It was almost _domestic_ , if not for the reality of the situation.

 

"Is something the matter, _Deputy?"_ John wonders aloud, heel of his shoe tapping noisily on the hard flooring as he set down the cutlery.

 

You shrug, taking out a series of plates and placing your dishes on them. All natural fare - homegrown vegetables, spices and game - none of the tinned or dehydrated stuff. Out of habit, you serve John his share of the meal and watch the slight widening of baby blues as you went by his, your arm grazing across his cheek.

 

"A long day. It'll pass, once this whole mess gets cleared up."

 

John smirks, taking his sweet time with the salad on his seat next to you.

 

"Incompetent workers?" He asks, getting bolder when you keep silent. "It can't be helped, since _you_ seem to be the only one able to do anything while everyone else just _pawns_ off their troubles onto you-"

 

"John."

 

"It's the truth - why?" He goads, sensing weakness and pouncing. "Does it hurt?"

 

You sigh deeply, knowing John and his hope to incite your Wrath. Not today.

 

"Eat your food, John." You reply, calmly finishing off your main dish and starting on the side course in record time. Habits gained from living in an environment where danger appeared in every corner.

 

"Hmph. You're no fun, Deputy." 

 

You shake your head, smiling softly. _Oh, John._

 

"Very well."

 

Then, without warning, your hand darts forward like a striking snake, pinning John's wrists together with your hand. The cutlery clatters onto the table - forgotten.

 

John visibly gulps when you loom over him, but does nothing to escape, probably remembering the way you overpowered him or perhaps the beatings of his youth.

 

“Apologise,” you demand with a growl. When John doesn’t speak, you release one of his hands to grab a handful of hair and tug _hard_ , causing John to hiss in discomfort.

 

“I don't come back after a long day of work to hear you talk shit about others. I know what you want... and I know what **_I_  **want. If _you_ don’t apologise, I'll have to punish you. Understood?"

  
  
“Y-yes,” John stutters, staring up at you, his pretty blues glazed with a sheen of tears from how hard you were pulling. You note the lust making his pupils dilate, eating up the blue till it was a thin ring surrounding liquid black.

 

"So you'll be _good?"_

 

“Yes, yes -" John says, eyes pleading. "I’ll be a good boy. I promise. I’m sorry.”

  
  
“You don’t mean it,” you rumble, delighting in the desperation that sparks across John's face.

 

 _You just want attention,_ you had purred into his ear weeks ago.  _Want someone to see you and put you in your place like the cockslut you are._

 

Yanking John's hair again, you drew a yelp from his lips, sneering as he twisted his hands from your grip to grasp at your arm indecisively, torn between submitting or injuring you for another chance at escape.

 

“Don’t you dare lie to me. You know better.”

 

"Please... _L-let me prove myself to you,"_ John murmurs, eyes darting to your crotch, his face flushing red at his own bold declaration.

 

 _That's it - that's what I like to hear._ "So much for escaping, eh?" You snort, falling back onto the chair like an uncaring king, legs spread as you unbuckled your belt and exposed your erection. Dinner is left to cool - too bad for John, for you already finished yours.

 

You lock eyes with John.

 

“On your knees, sweetling." You purr, watching with hungry eyes as John inched forward on his hands and knees, peering up at you with wide blue eyes, hesitant yet determined. 

 

You wonder how much of it is an act and how much of it is real.

 

Smiling kindly, you pet his soft hair, ruffling it into further disarray as John rested his head on your thigh, presenting the image of an obedient pup. But you know better - he is very much like a dog that would nuzzle and whine, and prone to ripping out your throat in the next second.

 

But there's the challenge.

 

"Go on - show me your worth." You croon. "Keep your claws and fangs to yourself, kitten - or I'll save you the trouble and remove your _teeth_  myself."

 

John whimpers, but it is drowned out by your throaty groan when his callused hand wraps around the base of your cock, stroking just the way you liked it.

 

Your head tilts back as a warm tongue begins to lap at the head, kittenish and shy.

 

You hum encouragingly, sweeping a stray lock from John's face to tuck behind a ear, petting his head encouragingly. 

 

In response, the tip of John's tongue slides over the slit before he begins to suckle on the tip between his puckered lips.

 

"That's it," you groan, legs spread wider to allow John to fit closer. "You protest so much every time, but we all know the truth. A good dicking and..."

 

Your words trail off when John draws half of your length into his mouth, then the rest when his throat relaxes. You gently place a hand in John's hair, tugging lightly just to watch him tense and his throat bob nervously - though you did not push for more.

 

His eyes were somewhat glossy now, his lips open and drooling around your cock as he swallowed around you hungrily, teeth carefully sheathed.

 

"You're doing so well, keep this up and I might let you play with yourself, maybe let you fuck yourself with a nice vibrator or dildo when I'm out  -" you croon, praise and obscenities mingling in a breathy voice, knowing how to hit John's sweet spots and delighting in the way the man unwittingly sought your praise, becoming more compliant as you spoke, his defiance melting into sweet surrender.

  
  
Then, sly fingers start caressing your scrotum in the most wonderful way and you curl your hand around the back of John's head, murmuring in approval.

  
Warm breath brushes against your sensitive skin as John pulls off, lips red and cheeks blushing.

 

" 'm I a good boy?” John says in an utterly _wrecked_ voice that sends fiery hot lust shooting through you. He wisely goes back to sucking you off before you decide to use him as a fleshlight for his daring interruption. That was a tempting idea. Mayhaps another time.

 

You imprint the image of John's limpid eyes in your head and comes hard, your fingers tightly entwined in the other man’s hair, forcing your cock deep into John's throat and making him swallow, repeated praise falling from your lips. 

 

John only presses himself closer, clutching at your thighs with his fingers, choking on your cock with muffled whimpers, swallowing and squirming as he rutted against you desperatedly, _wanting_ yet knowing better than to bring himself off without permission.

 

“ _God **yes**_ ,” you groan as John averts his eyes to your blasphemy, flushing to the tips of his ears. A small dribble of cum glistens on plush lips and you lean forward, absently wiping it with a finger, which John sucks off obediently.

 

You nudge John's hardness, grinning as the man rutted against the barest amount of friction provided, keening softly.

 

"Don't worry, sweetling," you hum, enjoying the way hazy eyes looked at you with something resembling devotion under all that need.

 

"Good boys will be rewarded."


End file.
